Twilight Realm
by Emm123
Summary: Meet Alex Merolli. Aniti-twilight activist. But when she suddenly finds herself face-to-face with Edward himself-in his world-will she lose it, or will she make discoveries about herself, her future, and her past?
1. Twilight Realm intro

**Hey Everyone! What's it been, half a year since I've updated? I have to admit I'm a bit apprehensive, considering how long I've kept people waiting for an update. First, I'm super, soooo, mega sorry! I really just lost inspiration for this story for a little while, but there was just something in me that wouldn't let me take it down. **

**So hmm. Let's start by saying that when I read over it I was shocked beyond belief at how embarrassing the story is. I mean, I'd like to think I'm a better writer now, and this really isn't my best…or worst work, for that matter. So, I've gotten much more ideas during my vacation, and I've made a pact with myself not to give stuff away at the end of each chapter like I used to, like the complete moron I was. I've realized, all-too belatedly, that it ruins the suspense of the story, even though I believe most do it anyway. Therefore, I'm taking every chapter down and rewriting them. They will be MUCH better. Seriously. I'm going to add much, much, more. (But that's all I'm going to teeeellll you!, she sings evilly) **

**That said, I noticed one person asked why this story didn't get more reviews, and I'd like to say that I could've asked myself the saaame question… But yeah, with over 100,000 stories under the Twilight archive, its nearly impossible not to get bumped up by other stories. And there are so many crappy ones out there, that most of the good ones don't have a chance to get noticed, and I know from experience that most people don't have the patience to go through, and actually review a story. Sad, but true. **

**And thanks so much for those of you do review, it really helps me not get lazy and procrastinate my writing and updating. I promise, I will do my best to do it from now on, and thx again! -M123**


	2. Chapter 1

"AL-EKSH" My hand wobbled, and knocked into several keys on the laptop from impact of the scream. She had startled me more than any thirteen-year old should have the right. I listened as the rhythmic stomps grew louder, like an angry mother elephant ready to beat its disobedient offspring.

"Whatch the fwip did you do witch my Edward _posher_?" I winced again. Oh, how I hated hearing her voice. They hurt my ears more than my headphones did.

"Sold it on Ebay" I said grimly. "You'd be surprised by how much Russians can't seem to get enough of him over there," I was sprawled on my bed, with one elbow sinking down into the edge and holding up my cheek at the other end, and the other moving idly on the track-pad.

If I cared enough to, I would gift my dear little sister with a life. She treated her twilight books like delicate, precious bibles. I pray for the idiot who would try and take one of them from her. She lived, breathed, _ate _Twilight…as do millions of other angst-filled, brainless teens around the world. She called it passion, I called it a deterioration of the mind.

I was not one to tolerate her minimalistic discretion for anything _tasteful_. Even she knew not to blather me about her fixation on fantasy heartthrobs. I _hated_ Twilight, with a passion. It robbed away whatever sense was left in our generation. Millions of girls wasted time, money and energy over this sham, as they were slowly dragged away to an intellectual wasteland. I could do no more than stand by and watch with a slow shake of my head.

"Where ish it?" Phoebe stomped into my minty-green room room, which I distinctly remember making off-limits. The carpet was a hue of black, tastefully matching the bedspread. The walls were a collage of photos of friends and family. My sleek, wood-colored guitar sat at the edge of my bed. "I shwear to god, Aleksh, if you don't-"

I gasped, and threw a hand over to cover up my mouth. "Me? With a poster of _your future husband_? _Never_!"

Phoebe replied with a growl.

"Oh, Phoebes, that hurts" I whimpered, not even looking up when it was clear, painfully so, that she was glaring daggers at me at the threshold of the door.

Phoebe was a rather small-framed eighth-grader. She was plagued with the typical difficulties of someone who had just been introduced to puberty. Besides being tall, skinny, and awkward in all the departments that mattered, her mouth was infested with a railroad of pink braces, and a spit-inducing retainer. Her thin, fleshy lips were in contrast of pale, freckled skin. Her wild, red hair looked like it weighed more than she did, as it flared out in a chaos and framed her skeletal figure.

I had a good mind that she was adopted. And though I kept it to myself whenever Mom was around, I was pretty sure she'd been hatched elsewhere.

No other member of this family unit shared her almond, green eyes, or frenzied hair. Both my mother and I had tamable, dark-brown hair. And each a pair of wide, long-lashed eyes to match. My skin was devoid of any spots, much to my sister's chagrin. The only thing she seemed to pride herself was her whitish skin. She said it to be the new "Ambercomie and Fitch", and that all her friends envied her for it because not everyone could have pale skin.

I told her I was going to get her a bottle of spray-tan for Christmas.

".it?" Phoebe said with false composition.

"Look _frea-be_,-" I stopped to smirk at her heated expression, knowing full well that she was a daily victim of name-calling as a child. "-I haven't the slightest idea where your masturbation poster could be. Now leave me alone and get lost," I said, feeling the elastic that held my patience together slowly expand. "Shouldn't be hard for you" I added, tentatively turning back to my screen. For hours I'd been auctioning for an Axel Rose-signed guitar pick. It would be hell before my status as top-bidder was altered.

But Phoebe was beyond listening. She launched herself at me, hammering my computer to the carpet. I glanced at it once in horror before turning my attention to her. She'd pinned me down on the bed, shoving wildly against my collarbone. I struggled to keep her hands away from my neck, gripping her wrists so hard the joints in my knuckles shifted color. Our arms swung back and forth due to the opposing forces. My face scrunched up in concentration. It was difficult keeping her at bay, for she projected her full weight over my torso and didn't once show any sign of stopping.

"Give it chu me, now!" she roared.

"Get off of me! Ugh! This is so wrong on so many levels, Phoebe" I grunted, our personal strengths dancing with each other. At this point she had my hands pinned closer to my hair splayed all over the bedspread.

"Give me the friggin' poster, Alex! I shwear I'll splich your guitar in half if I haff to!"

Narrowing my eyes, I rammed my knee against her gut, thrusting her to the far end of the divan. It seemed she wasn't fully aware of what exactly she was threatening me with. She stood up, her jutted lips were set in a deep frown. I kept her silent with a look. I glared at her as I straightened my black-t-shirt, and various other locations she managed to perturb. I stood up at the opposite side the bed to her and stared at her minute, narrowing my eyes into slits as she crossed her arms with an expectant expression. I ambled away towards the closet on my side of the bed, feeling her steps behind me. I made my way to the shut closet door, and turned to face her.

She still had her arms crossed. "Just remember that you asked for it" was the last thing before I grabbed open the handle and pulled out the rolled up piece of paper from its socket in the overstuffed little room. I chucked it at her, the corners of my lips slightly pulling up as it soared above her head. Phoebe lunged, stumbling as she scrambled for the blown-up picture on the floor.

"See? I _knew_ you-" there was a brief silence, and I counted the seconds on my watch as it sunk into her pea-sized brain. It seemed to take forever, like the wheels turned but the hamster was dead.

Phoebe's face twitched, contorting itself as if she'd eaten a lemon whole. Her nostrils flared as she stabbed me a look, like laser beams burning into my face.

"I…can explain" I said, the apprehension now seeping in.

"Explain _this_!" Phoebe thrusted it at me so hard I held up both my forearms to shield myself. It flipped through the air, and when it hit the ground I picked it up and held it for myself.

I wasn't expecting her to think much of it. Even I wasn't cruel enough to do it unless I had good reason to. On the plastic piece of paper was a scribbled drawing of a pencil mustache on Edward's upper lip, a pair of Harry Potter glasses, and various moles and zits upon his face. My mouth twitched with humor, but Phoebe's lethal stares kept me from totally losing it. It was so hard keeping from laughing, that my attempt at a serious face almost made her laugh.

Almost.

"Listen, Phoebe. I didn't do this to get under your skin. I-"

"What other weason ish there?" she shrieked.

"Would you let me finish? You have the attention span of—oh wait, it's gone again" I said, rolling my eyes.

But Phoebe wouldn't have any of me proving myself right, so as she waited I continued with a tight grin. "Phoebe, I had a project in History last week, and the teacher assigned us to present a great debate in America. I was trying to prove a point, and this poster helped out with my presentation"

I didn't think it was possible, but Phoebe seemed to be more confused than before. "What point wash that?"

"That Twilight was rotting the brains of many teenage victims" I said. "And I wouldn't have done it unless I really had a reason. And plus, it's not like you don't have a bunch more. I saw the twilight lair" I said casually.

I sank down on my bed, smiling up at her, arms still crossed. "So, we cool, sis?"

Phoebe was shaking her head, her eyes narrowed into slits. "What gid she give you?"

"A ninety" I said proudly.

Phoebe raised her eye brows.

I scowled, "Minus twenty-five"

"Thought so"

"Hey, just be happy, that for once your sick obsession served for a good purpose" I said.

Phoebe was shaking her head. "God, I hate you. I weally hate you, ya know"

I groaned, and flapped down on a pillow. "Ugh, save the theatrics, please!"

"And you know what? Screw your vampires. Rob Pattinson doesn't take showers anyway" I grumbled into the pillow, then I threw it at her and laughed.

"Go to hell, Alex" she chucked it back at me, with more much force.

I caught it with one hand and smirked at her, "I'm with you, aren't I?"

"Ma! _Ma_! You will not _believe_…." Her loud stomps faded into the living room downstairs. I rose from the bed and held open the door, "And Thanks for crapping up my laptop, Phoebe! I'll remember this when you ask me to eat your vegetables at dinner!"

I slammed the door, not realizing at first how hard I'd done it. It shook itself off the hinges, and quickly I searched for something to hold on to. The floor groaned beneath my feet, vibrating, jittering. It made my body shake so much I got dizzy.

The glass portrait of Elvis behind me quivered on its hook. I gasped in horror, leaping forward as it came crashing down on the carpet in a waterfall of splintering glass.

"Alex!" my mother's distant voice bellowed. The walls cement fogged the room, and living in California, earthquakes were considered frequent. Of course, we had packed an emergency pack, under the safety of our basement.

I willed my unsteady legs to carry me to the nearest doorway, knowing that my only hope now was getting to mother quickly enough.

_Almost_ _there_.

The flooring ruptured, crafting an extensive horizontal line up before me. I couldn't stand any longer. I flailed my arms, uselessly. I tipped, and the last thing I remembered was my frantic screams and the darkness getting closer and closer.

_Knock__Knock. _

"Alex" said a male voice.

I sat up on the fluffy pillows and oversized sheets.

_This isn't my room. _I tossed my legs sideways. The windows viewed a gloomy environment, the clouds a devastating majesty up above.

"Alex? You all right in there? C'mon, it's time for school" said the voice again.

I swallowed back a scream, knowing all too well that no men resided in my house.

My house.

"Alex?" the door pushed open, and a thick but fit dark-haired man entered the room. "You okay?"

I squinted at him. He was dressed in a policeman's attire, his mustache a dominant feature on his face. I look more closely at him. Around the edges of his large figure, as if outlining his frame, was a tinted color. It was green, growing brighter as the seconds passed.

"Who are you?" I said.

My voice shook.

"What's gotten into you? Honey, are you sick?"

I shot through the doorway, thankful that the stranger was too perplexed to even try and catch me. At that point, I didn't know where I was running to. It was just that running was my only option.

Dashing down the hall, and rummaging through junky furniture as I sprinted down the stairs, I caught a glimpse of myself on a hanging mirror.

"What the-" I held the sheer fabric of my nightgown between two fingers. I had _never_ before worn anything frilly…or pink.

It was worse than I thought. I darted back up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. There I stood, pursing my lips resolutely as I searched the hallway for camera lenses.

"All right! You got me, guys" I said with a shaky laugh. "Joke's over, you can come out now, Ashton" I hollered with a tight grin. I stood alone in the place long enough to feel like a complete dumbass talking to herself.

Feeling the panic slowly bubbling, I darted down the stairs once more, running myself smack-dab into a pale, long-haired girl. She must've been around my age.

"Oh! Sorry, her let me help you" she offered her hand as I gaped at it, head spinning. There was only one person in the world with fingers that bony.

"Bella?"

"Good to know you hadn't forgotten my name or anything" she was still in her black camisole and baggy pajama pants, and I instantly envied her. Why do I get the gay nightie?

"What-how-who-?" I stopped immediately, running a hand across my temples. Man, I wanted to break something. Her face seemed pretty feasible.

But instead, I held out my hand. Pulling myself up, I almost fell backwards from pulling it back so swiftly, eyeing her suspiciously. Her hand was warm. And I mean just-out-the-oven warm.

"What's wrong?"

I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. Her light was also a blinding green. "Bella, would you mind telling me where I am?"

"Umm…last time I checked we were in Forks" she said with a short chuckle, staring at me as if she doubted my sanity. Hell, I doubted my sanity.

"You wouldn't happen to have a certain boyfriend named Edward, would you?" I shrugged, casually. "Just…wondering…"

She sighed, rolling her eyes in the process. "Mom told you, didn't she?"

I shook my head, "Mom? Huh-?"

"Yes, Alex" she enunciated. "You know what, are you sure about this? I mean, moving in with me and Dad and all…If it's too much for you, just…just let me know. I wouldn't want—_we_ wouldn't want you making decisions you're not sure about"

I staggered backwards, no longer processing any more of her words. The light was giving me a headache. This was crazy. She was crazy. She thought we were sisters.

She was crazy...

Hell, I was crazy. I'm so crazy I didn't have a clue what I was talking about.

"Bella?" I said dreamily. "Why is that window moving? You better catch it before it gets away…"

* * *

**AN; Thoughts? The review section is wide open. ;)**

**And here is is the mood color guide, I'll post it in every chapter so it is easy reference.**

Joy-bright yellow

Surprise- regular yellow

Anger- black

Sadness-gray

Fear- blue

Lustful-muddy red

Cheerful-bright red

Pride-orange

Relief-purple

Jealousy-dark green

Nervousness- bright green

Boredom- brown

Calm-pink

M123


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